


The Only Gift

by fcllencngels



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Death, Drinking, Funerals, M/M, Pining, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Secret Santa, Underage Drinking, all characters are 18+
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:29:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8777695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fcllencngels/pseuds/fcllencngels
Summary: Keith is alone for Christmas, and there's only one thing he wants besides the Christmas tree
Based off of The Only Gift by 'N Sync





	

**Author's Note:**

> Part one of two of angsty Sheith Christmas fics based off of ridiculously sad Christmas songs.
> 
> Seriously
> 
> Why would you write sad Christmas songs?
> 
> or admin is depressed and therefore writes more angst
> 
> Shack based off of edit done by @hermitboykeith on tumblr [[Edit]](http://hermitboykeith.tumblr.com/post/147188759323/a-little-while-back-i-had-wanted-to-edit-everyone)

“Hey guys! Let’s do a Secret Santa!”

Voices rose in excitement, and Keith could only roll his eyes as he watched his classmates dig through their backpacks, ripping up a sheet of paper and passing it around before scribbling down their names and wishlists. Taking a slow sip of the beer that had been given to him, Keith propped his feet on top of an abandoned backpack before a classmate turned to him.

“Hey Keith. You joining?” A voice asked, and a pair of heads rose to look at him. The glass bottle was halfway to his lips before he met the eyes looking at him. He hated Christmas. Not because there was anything wrong with it, but because someone…someone else had loved it too much, and it only hurt to think of the memories, of times that would never be repeated.

“Do I have to?” He asked lazily, twirling the neck of the beer bottle in between his fingertips. Everything was turning slightly fuzzy, and he had to admit that it was almost pleasant, especially when his brain stopped functioning for random moments.

“Just do it you grump. Write whatever you want for Christmas.” The voice said, and Keith looked up, vaguely wondering who exactly was speaking to him.

 

> _I was makin' my list_  
>  I was checkin' it twice  
>  In the middle of this, I got tears in my eyes  
>  For in my foolish heart, there was one simple truth  
>  The only gift I wanted was you
> 
>  

Keith sighed and shrugged, taking the remaining piece of paper and scribbling his name down in slanted lines before pausing and shrugging as he wrote down a couple items. After all, it wasn’t as if any of these airheads could actually reach through time and space to grab him what he wanted. Even then, it would probably be too late.

Folding the ripped shred in half, he passed it to the nearest person, and watched with dim amusement as someone pulled out a box and threw all of the slips inside. The box was passed around, and Keith stuck his hand inside, pulling out a piece with an unfamiliar name and a hell of a wish. Looking back at his bottle, he noticed it was nearly empty and sighed with disappointment before tossing it to the side with the rest of the bottles the group had already consumed.

“Hey.” Keith said, nudging a head with his foot. “Pass me another one. I thought you said we’re all getting drunk tonight.”

The group erupted into sound, and new, cold bottles were being passed around along with a screwdriver. Taking the tool, Keith popped the cap off, the slight hiss of decompressed air soothing before he took another sip.

He was going to wash away the memories.

 

* * *

 

> _You need to be home with me_  
>  Alone with me  
>  Holding me next to the Christmas tree  
>  Kissing under the mistletoe  
>  As candles glow
> 
>  

The shack was as cold and battered as ever, though, not as empty as it had been when Shiro had been here. The blanket had been thrown onto it, and even the curtain had stayed up, albeit it dusty and spotted. Keith had put up his own supplies: books stolen from Garrison officers, a table made out of rubble found on the ride there, and even some shelves, fashioned together out of scraps of wood he had found behind the shack itself.

Every new addition made the room more homey. Every new addition wiped out the Shiro’s trace.

Sometimes when he laid down on the couch, he could press his face into the cushions and smell faint traces of Shiro. But after every trip, Keith found that Shiro was fading away from the room, and in his place were irritable clumps of sand that had blown in through the cracked walls, and across the floor.

It frustrated Keith to no ends, and he had kicked the table once in pure anger, only to let out a string of cuss words as his toe collided with the heavy cinder block.

In attempts to bring some type of festive cheer to the room, Keith had strung up of the mistletoe he had taken above his dorm room at the Garrison. It had been a necessity, but now, nestled between two short flickering candles, Keith watched, as something slowly drove a stake through his chest.

Shiro would never kiss him under the mistletoe again, laughing as he bumped his head against any of the dorm’s doorframes. Keith would never get to ask _why_ Shiro was kissing him under some type of poisonous plant, and listen to Shiro’s laughs afterwards.

Everything had been lost after those words had flashed across the screen in the common room, the two words that had killed Keith in a matter of seconds

_Pilot Error_

Keith rubbed angrily at the hot tears streaming down his face. If Shiro, his Takashi, couldn’t survive in deep space, Keith wasn’t even qualified to be a pilot. If Shiro wasn’t coming back, then everything he had worked for would have been in vain.

“You stupid, stupid idiot.” He muttered, burying his face in the blanket.

Shiro’s scent was gone.

 

* * *

 

> _As the bitter-sweet night had come to an end_  
>  I was saying goodbye to our family and friends  
>  And they all wished me well  
>  And I knew that I knew  
>  The only gift I wanted was you
> 
>  

Keith stood in front of the rock, Shiro’s name elegantly embedded in the stone. It had taken nearly all of his funds and the Garrion’s good graces for him to fly out all this way, and now, he wasn’t even sure if it was worth it. The suit pulled at him with every movement, and Keith couldn’t breathe, the tie wrapped around his neck, closing off his airway with every inhale.

Shiro’s family had sent him an invitation, including a sympathetic subnote, and every fiber in his being had jumped at the thought of going back to Japan. It had been so nice to meet Shiro’s family, visit Shiro’s home. Things there would remind him of Shiro, and maybe, just maybe he could finally feel as if Shiro had existed.

It had been a mistake. With no spare rooms, he had spent the nights in Shiro’s childhood bedroom, the room cluttered unlike the bedroom Keith was so familiar with at the Garrison. There had been offers to help him clean up, but he had smiled and declined, preferring to sit on the bed and look at all the items haphazardly thrown around. Shiro was real, and Shiro had died, leaving Keith alone.

Ignoring the lump in his chest, Keith looked around, and seeing that no one was around (or at least looking at him), he slowly bowed, getting up seconds later with a pained smile.

“I don’t know what to fucking do Takashi.” He whispered staring at the picture leaning against the stone. Shiro’s face smiled up at him, and Keith bit back a sob. He wasn’t sure why he was here, he wasn’t even sure if he was doing anything right.

“I don’t know. I’m half Japanese, half Korean, and you’d think I’d know what to do at a fucking ceremony like this.” He hissed, burying his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do anymore Takashi. What am I supposed to do?”

His chest hiccupped, and for a moment, he could feel Shiro there, holding him, Keith’s head pressed against his chest as his hand rubbed Keith’s back in slow circles. The warmth was all too familiar, but as he opened his eyes, all he saw was the stone in front of him, and tears at his feet.

 

* * *

 

Christmas had come again, though Keith would have scarcely noticed if it hadn’t been for the radio. After weeks of tinkering with the piece of salvaged tech, he pushed it on, smiling with success as the static crackled, a faint voice calling through the haze. Turning the knobs, Keith squinted with concentration until the voice called out to him, grainy but audible.

“Hope you’re having a Merry Christmas folks…”

Keith froze, looking out the window. If it was Christmas already, then Shiro…Shiro had been dead for a year. Pain blossomed as if the wound were fresh and Keith turned to shut off the radio, if not for a couple hours, then a couple of days. He needed no reminders of mistletoe kisses or bright smiles. He didn’t need to be reminded of olive green uniforms and ridiculous haircuts.

 

> _In the middle of this, I got tears in my eyes_  
>  For in my wishful heart, there was one simple truth  
>  The only gift I wanted was you  
>  For in my wishful heart, there was one simple truth  
>  The only gift I wanted was you
> 
>  

“Hope everyone got what they listed, and here’s a song if you weren’t lucky enough to get all those goodies!”

A song played, but it didn’t cut through the haze of Keith’s mind. Looking up, he stared at the wall in front of him, maps and post it notes, and strings all interwoven, pinned on the wall. Being booted from the Garrison had given him new freedom, though he hadn’t regained his sense of purpose until he had found the caves, beautifully decorated with an intricate story, a story of conquest and power, and honor. Shiro would have loved it.

He had gone day after day, and now instead of Christmas lists, he wrote down lists of characters, of symbols that were still unknown, even after searching through books and books of information.

Of course, one thing hadn’t changed for Keith either.

“The only gift I wanted was you” the radio cranked out, before static overtook the device, filling the shack with the sound.

“Merry Christmas Takashi.” Keith murmured


End file.
